


you picked a fight, but you got a war

by artemis_writes



Series: I'll Tell You the Truth (But Never Goodbye) [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Character Study (?), Gen, Memories, Sad Ghostbur, The Revolution, Unreliable Narrator, amnesiac ghostbur, but more than usual ig, confused ghostbur, eret's museum, ghostbur's what i remember diary, hc that he forgets anything thats sad the very next day as a coping mechanism, lmanberg, lmanberg independence, v short lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28021758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis_writes/pseuds/artemis_writes
Summary: the world had been at their feet and freedom in hand. he had been proud.[part 3: the revolution]
Relationships: No Romantic Relationships - Relationship
Series: I'll Tell You the Truth (But Never Goodbye) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026055
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	you picked a fight, but you got a war

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the infrequent updates lmfao. school sucks ass, but i think this is our last week before break (what is time anymore) so i should be getting these out more frequently! 
> 
> title from pay dearly by johnnyswim

_“Ghostbur, can you give these to Tubbo?”_

_“Sure, Niki!” He beamed. He loved exploring! And being helpful! It was a win win! “Do you happen to know where he is at the moment?”_

_She handed him some small jars of dyes held together with unruly twine. “New L’manberg.”_

_Ghostbur frowned. “New L’manberg?”_

_“Your home?”_

_“Oh! L’manberg, gotcha! Thanks!”_

_“Right,” she shrugged. “No problem.”_

_____________________

The birds chirped in the distance, as if they too had heard the good news. The sun had shone, even brighter than before, as the clouds parted from the bluest sky Wilbur had ever seen. It glowed, spilling over his back, in glorious rays after his sure victory. After Tommy’s sure victory. 

Because they had done it. 

Even through it all, it this moment made it worth it. Because finally, it was so incredibly simple. 

L’manberg had won. They defeated the evil. 

They were the good guys, and just like in all those tales he used to read to Fundy, and all the songs he used to sing by candlelight when the moon was at its peak, they had triumphed. 

They had gone through it all, just like his heroes did. 

They were noble and kind and just. They fought oppression, but not with swords at their sides or axes to their backs, ready to be pulled at a moment's notice. No, his friends had known better. Wilbur had known better. Ghostbur knew for sure that weapons and strange glowing drugs in glass bottles, however fun they were to use with his friends, were made for bad bad things that ended up very badly. And he thinks his past self did too. 

And so they had charged into battle. Time after time again, no shining armor, no sharp weapons, just a pack of rations at their side and their words and wits at the ready. Because although he knew his memory was fuzzy, he was certain that they had done it the right way. That they had won, for his friends, brothers, and most importantly, his son. 

And they had done it the right way. 

Ghostbur beamed at the prospect of being able to tell this story to Fundy one day, whenever that may be; his son always seemed quite busy these days. But he would do what Phil had done for him, smiling at night, cup of hot chocolate in hand (with many marshmallows of course!), telling stories of lands far far away with grand heroes and malicious villains. 

Ghostbur smiled to himself. 

That sounded nice. 

_____________________

He couldn’t help but go back to the museum. 

There was something there, something that called to him in a way that even the strange buildings in the large crater of a country he once knew couldn’t match. 

And even though Tommy had led him away from it, to safety, and even though the voices in the back of his mind told him to avoid that place. To forget it and move on, collect more blue, maybe go to Phil’s for an hour or two, and pretend like nothing happened, he didn’t. 

Or, at least he wasn’t sure. 

He didn’t want to hurt again. Happy things were happy and they didn’t need the sad things. That’s what blue was for! Then again, he hadn’t ever come across a situation where blue hadn’t worked! The citizens of New L’manberg seemed to love it and he always made sure to bring them stacks upon stacks of it and have even more on hand, just in case. So maybe he could use it for himself! 

He wandered back towards his crane, the cool night breeze pushing him along. He sank into the sewers below, the icy water against his skin. He shook himself off and began absently shuffling potion ingredients around their barrels; everything had its place (and although he was sure whoever had done it had good reason, the people who had borrowed his drugs had messed up his ingredient cabinets.) 

His hands began nudging bottles of this and clumps of that onto shelves with a song on his lips and pep in his step. Even so, his mind was wondering, as much as he wished it hadn’t. 

Maybe he needed a sign, that’s all. Heroes always got signs in their stories! It was his favorite thing to see, the cosmic fate of the universe making sure everything was as it should be. It was for the best that he-

His hand slipped over a weathered wicker basket that had been tucked into the back of his blaze powder cabinet. He carefully took it by the handle and set it on the floor before he laid down in front of it, his legs swinging excitedly behind him. 

Ghostbur removed the checkered cloth across the top and found a large stash of long forgotten blue! 

“Aha!” He chuckled.

It was perfect timing, really, and who was he to interrupt the plans of the stars? 

(Oh, if only he knew what those constellations he smiled upon had in store for him, what had transpired and slipped his very mind.)

(Ghostbur woke up the next morning, blue in hand, mind empty.)

**Author's Note:**

> this one's a bit short and def an impulse upload (writing style crisis at 11pm? couldn't be me)
> 
> next two are gonna be ~fun~ tho!!!


End file.
